Studs Terkel would have been proud of this remarkably impactful nonprofit arts organization.
My favorite book about America is Working by Studs Terkel. In it, Terkel takes months to interview regular working people (and unemployed and retired people) in hundreds of jobs. They discuss what they do and what they get out of it. Their stories are familiar, unfamiliar, surprising, devastating, and hopeful. Truly an epic study on human nature and the ways in which Americans feel the freedom to be resilient, there is a pride of existence that even the most hopeless factory worker doing repetitive tasks can do.
As we celebrate the everyday workers in Working, we as audiences get a moment to step back and see the realities that face others. This is true charity: truly nonprofit purpose in action. In Austin, Texas, one company that specializes in spectacle dance works gives its participants the opportunity to change their own lives and to spread that change to others in their own community.
Welcome to Forklift Danceworks.
“We’ve got to figure out how to listen to each other and we’ve got to figure out how to hear each other’s stories.”
Those are the words of Allison Orr — erstwhile toddler teacher, potential Middle East negotiator, relationship expert, dancer, choreographer, cat-herder, problem-solver, distinguished fellow in Wesleyan’s College of the Environment, and the founder and artistic director of Forklift Danceworks in Austin, Texas. Orr is not merely an impressive resume with a series of ivory tower ideas on how to make life better.
“We have really big problems,” bemoaned Orr. “Some of the most challenging issues humanity has ever faced. They’re happening right now and I just can’t waste my time with art that I don’t feel addresses that, nor with people who don’t want to. We don’t have time to waste.”
From sanitation workers to firefighters, power linemen to maintenance teams, Orr creates award-winning choreography with the people whose work sustains our everyday lives. Inspired by the beauty and virtuosity in the movement of labor, and building on her background in anthropology and social work, Allison has honed a methodology of ethnographic choreography that engages community members as co-authors and performers in the creation of large-scale civic spectacles. Challenging audiences to expand notions of dance and performer, her dances have been performed for audiences of 60 to more than 6,000.
For over 20 years, Forklift Danceworks has created inclusive, one-of-a-kind performance projects that share stories, build understanding, and create community. These works have reached over 50,000 people with free performances that typically feature the people whose work sustains our everyday lives. Additionally, Forklift Danceworks partners with different communities across the world to train local artists and government staff on the unique Forklift collaborative creative process. Through artistic programming and coaching, Forklift builds capacity for more informed civic dialogue, greater collaboration between individuals, and stronger connections and leadership across communities.
Past partners have included the City of Austin’s Aquatics, Fire, Power, Sanitation, Urban Forestry and Watershed Protection Departments. The company has also partnered with Goodwill of Central Texas; Williams College Dining Services; Wake Forest University Facilities Services; and Wesleyan University Custodial, Grounds and Physical Plant teams. Internationally, the company has been commissioned by the Kyoto Arts Center and the International Community Arts Festivals, and it has created performances with the Japanese Women’s Professional Baseball League in Kyoto, Japan, sanitation employees in Rotterdam and Barcelona, and Venetian gondoliers.
“Our intent as an organization is not so different from my intent as its director,” said Orr. “We want to activate communities. My intent and the intent of our work is to build and deepen connections and relationships between people who have not necessarily gathered together or worked together before. We build the muscle for collaboration, particularly in stakeholders that don’t connect or cross. To solve our biggest challenges as a community, we need to know how to listen and collaborate, especially with people who we might not agree with.”
When relationships are formed, deepened, challenged, and expanded among people who may disagree on their core values, the possibility for change becomes more likely. This kind of work from Forklift not only builds civic capacity, but social capital.
“I think a lot of our audience are interested Austinites who want to contribute to a better world, but quite don’t know what that means,” explained Orr. “So, they come to learn. We work a lot with frontline working-class personnel. I read that Studs Terkel once asked, ‘When they were building the Great Wall of China, where did the masons go for lunch?’ That’s where the story is. Those are the people whose stories have to be told.”
The general nature of a Forklift Danceworks event is by turns spectacular and homespun. One production in 2001 was In Case of Fire, Forklift’s first collaboration with a City of Austin department. The piece featured thirteen Austin Firefighters, two fire engines, and a ladder truck. It was performed at the Austin Fire Department Training Tower and marked the culmination of Fire Prevention Week in Austin.
Orr worked with this group of firefighters for over a year — riding out on the trucks to fires and medical calls, interviewing the firefighters about their work, and learning all she could about firefighting. During the performance the firefighters were seen pulling hoses, climbing ladders, and rappelling down a building. Yes, there was fire.
Through choreography inspired by the movements that firefighters typically perform in their daily work, In Case of Fire showcased the important and often heroic work of City of Austin firefighters. When the dance came to a close the performing firefighters received a standing ovation from the audience of over 500 Austinites.
“All the projects we design are based around the outcomes of our collaborators,” said Orr. “We’re currently working in Miami-Dade County with the Mayor’s Office, Office of Resilience, and multiple city departments who engage with Miami-Dade’s complex water issues. I’ve asked department leaders about their goals for our collaboration. What do they want to change in the way the public sees their work when the show is over? What could be different in Miami because of our work together?”
She continued. “We continually ask our stakeholders, our collaborators, and our partners: to what should we be held accountable? What would success look like to you? That guides me in the content creation. So the content of the projects really comes from the people who are in the shows and the people who are the partnering to make it happen with us.”
But the work doesn’t stop there.
“Then we survey audience members. After we get the results, we follow up with all the collaborators who were part of the project. These are the employees who perform, the supervisors who consulted — the leadership of the departments. We go back and we collect their feedback. We ask questions such as, ‘Did the project improve morale? Do your employees think of themselves as more creative? Did Forklift bring value to your department? Did the project strengthen communication in your organization?’ And then, I’ll sit down and interview key people, sometimes on camera, to get feedback and impact. Lynn Osgood, who did our research around our three-year residency with Austin aquatics, looked at individual impact, workforce impact, neighborhood impact, and citywide impact. Lynn noted that during our project, Austin voters approved the largest bond ever in the history of the city for aquatics. A budget officer also came to one of our shows, and his visit turned into action. $1.5 million annually was added to the Aquatics budget. Not every project leads to these kinds of dramatic economic benefits, but these were exciting outcomes.”
Orr talked often about the fact that once she chose to establish a nonprofit, the art could no longer be just for her.
“We just asked the Lower Colorado River Authority (LCRA) if we could help them with their needs. The LCRA is the non-governmental entity in Texas that manages our portion of the Colorado River. I see a dance on a dam, but that doesn’t mean that might be the best dance to help them with their communication needs. That’s also what makes it different for me and Forklift. We have to address our partners’ return on investment from the very beginning. Even with a 20+ year track record of success with all sorts of governmental and regional agencies, I still have to be clear about what’s in it for our partners, not for me and Forklift.”
Too many artists running too many nonprofit arts organizations never put that thought into their brain, even though that’s the core of what nonprofits are supposed to do.
Given her background, which also includes studies in cultural anthropology, social work, pre-school education, and whatever else piqued her bottomless sense of curiosity, Allison Orr will always be mid-sentence, mid-career, and in the middle of everything.
“I’m the luckiest person,” she crowed. “I got to ride on the back of a firetruck for a year. I rode on the back of a trash truck. I hung out with transmission linemen who free-climb 250 feet high. I have the best life. What it all boils down to is this: I love culture. I love stories. I love being with people, just in regular life, and I’m a little bit on a mission to get art at the center of how we solve problems. In my soul, I feel really like we need this tool. As a people, we have to figure out how to listen to each other and we have to figure out how to hear each other’s stories.”
Orr talked about once wanting to be a Middle East peace negotiator. With her drive, energy, and data that shows the detail of how art can prove to be an effect tool for growing relationships among disparate people, it would not surprise me to see Forklift do a production at the United Nations featuring diplomatic attachés from warring factions in a choreographed exposition of peacemaking duties, and in doing so, ending all tensions among people who hold no trust whatsoever for the other.
In case you’re wondering, I’m a donor to Forklift Danceworks. They’re a beacon of charity in a nonprofit arts sector in which there are few…for now. And as I would do with a good movie, a great restaurant, or a terrific store, I want you to share in my good fortune for having found them. Send them a donation. They deserve it.
And it goes without saying, but the cynics among us request this: no, they paid not a cent for this article. If you’re interested in how they achieve greatness — and Forklift Danceworks achieves greatness in every possible way — give Allison Orr a call. However, if you’re really interested in attaining peace, send Forklift a seven-figure check tomorrow, writing this note on the memo line: “If anyone can do it, you can.”
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